Cinderella Revised
by Higanbana.4
Summary: you can probably tell what this is about from the title : WARNING: this is not an IchiHime fic just because Orihime is one of the main characters.
1. Chapter 1

enjoy :)

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><p>The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the window and into the room. Dust motes highlighted in gold floated this way and that, dancing around the girl's slim form like a shower of sparks. Stifling a sneeze, the girl bent down and resumed her chore. Sweeping the dust on the tiled floor in a repetitive motion, left right left right. It was boring, monotonous work.<p>

The girl sighed, reaching up to tuck a strand of apricot coloured hair behind one ear as it fell across her face.

The same routine. Day in, day out. _I really should be grateful,_ she scolded herself inwardly. _Ever since onii-chan passed away, oba-san has given me a place to stay. It is hard on her, also having to take care of me as well as my cousins._

For a brief instant, a sad expression slipped onto her face. Only for a second though, before she banished it to the innermost depths of her mind. The truth was, ever since her older brother, Sora, whom had been a very successful merchant had died, her life had been a literal hell.

Orihime had been forced to move in with her aunt's family, as she had no other living relatives.

The huge fortune that her brother had left behind had fallen into her aunt's bony hands. It made her angry that her aunt had claimed all of the wealth which her brother had worked so hard for, and ultimately died for.

The accident had happened on a rainy night. Her brother had been hurrying to the last store, impatient to finish his last delivery of the day so that he could get home to his sister.

Nothing could have prevented it. The rain water had turned the thick dust of the road into a slippery mud, and as her brother had driven his wagon around a corner of the mountain pass, one of the horses had slipped and pulled the entire wagon down along with it.

That day had been the worst day in Orihime's life.

She could still vividly remember her own shock, and then intense disbelief followed by a cold numbing sense of unreality and dread.

It had felt as though the world was ending, and she knew that she would never forget that feeling.

Soon after, she had been forced to move away from the neighbourhood in which she had lived for her whole life and move in with her aunt Haribel. Her life of constant torment at the hands of her aunt and "sisters" had begun there.

At the time, she had been 7. Even thinking about the events that had transpired caused Orihime to feel a heavy weight on her heart. She sighed once more.

"INOUE ORIHIME! What do you think you're doing? Save your silly day dreaming for later. Did I not instruct you very precisely to finish sweeping the first floor by 5 o, clock? Now it's almost 6 and you still haven't finished even a quarter of the room! What do you have to say for yourself, Orihime? Mother works so very hard to keep this house in order so that we can all live comfortable lives. You are privileged, Orihime. You should feel grateful towards us for our kindness, all we ask of you is for you to do a few chores around the house. Yet you are utterly incapable of even the simplest task! You really are of no use."

Orihime felt like palming her face. Mentally, she scolded herself for being such an idiot. She had not even noticed the time fly by as he hands slowly stopped their clockwork sweeping motion with the broom, and her thoughts sank deep within old memories.

She had stopped and stood in one place for more than an hour! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

And at that moment, the doorbell rang, creating the perfect distraction.

The step sister stopped scolding her for a few seconds to order her to answer the door.

Orihime ducked out of the living room and quickly stepped towards the solid door of polished wood, which too had been bought with her deceased brother's money.

Still berating herself for her careless slip, Orihime unlatched and pulled back the door with effort. Entrapped within her own thoughts as she was, Orihime barely noticed the dark-haired messenger in front of her until he shoved a gold edged letter practically into her face.

"Uh, excuse me Inoue-san." the dark haired boy said.

"Oh! Hello Ishida-kun. I'm sorry, I didn't see you. What are you here for?" Orihime asked, curious.

Ishida Uryuu had been her long time neighbour and playmate, ever since she had moved in with her aunt and step-sisters at the age of 7.

Uryuu's parents ran the eye clinic and glasses shop next door, and she knew that Uryuu had recently gone to the castle as a servant to the King and lord of their Eventine. Their town was the capital of the entire country, so many young men were enlisted into the service of the King. The Ishida's son was no exception.

"I'm here to deliver invitations for a ball being held on the 23rd of December lasting until the 25th. The ball is being held for the prince and future King of our country. Invites are being sent out to all the maidens in the land because this year, it is said that the prince will select his bride out of all the women that show up at the ball." Answered Uryuu, startling Orihime yet again out of another short reverie (although the one before was longer).

"Wow!" gasped Orihime surprised. "Is every single girl in this country being invited? That's a lot of invites! How's the prince ever going to choose a bride out of all of them?"

"I have no idea," replied Uryuu, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "But I do know that invitations are being sent to even those who don't live in this country of Eventine."

"It sounds fun!" smiled Orihime. "though, really, can any girl go? I would really love to be able—"

"ORIHIME! What is taking you so long? It is just to answer the door!" came the blaring voice of her second step-sister, Ilsabel from inside the house.

"Hurry it up!" shouted the first step sister, Mariette.

"Ilsabel-san, Mariette-san, Ishida-kun is here with invitations to a ball being held that the castle in one week!" Orihime called back.

"Invites? So the crown prince is finally going to select a bride?" came the nearly hysterical voices of the step sisters, almost trampling each other in their rush to get at the crisp white envelopes held in Uryuu's hand.

Then, they proceeded to bat their eyelashes at him while giggling and cooing about how grateful and honoured they were to be invited, all the while completely ignoring the existence of Orihime who stood by the door in a nervous silence.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two. hope ya like it, though this is still more of an intro. i wrote the first two chapters mostly to tie up loose ends. anyways, have fun.

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><p>"THERE IS NO FRICKIN WAY I'M GOING TO PICK A GIRL TO MARRY OUT OF THOUSANDS OF RANDOM CHICKS! THAT IS IT! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR CRAZY SCHEMES; I AM ABSOLUTELY NOT GOING TO THIS BALL! A THREE-DAY LONG BALL, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" the orange-haired youth roared out, not caring that the servants hiding outside the door never mind his twin sisters would be whispering and spreading rumours about his outburst all day.<p>

The hell if he cared! Right now, there were more pressing matters to deal with.

Such as his parents' insane suggestion that they hold an event to decide his future wife.

God! He was only 17. There was plenty of time to think about shit like marriage and children later. So why now?

"This whole idea is mad. Absolutely insane. Retarded. An impossible solution." He groaned, resisting the urge to slump forwards onto the expensive mahogany table.

"Ichigo, your mother and I have decided that this is the best course of action to take in order to find you a fiancée." His father Isshin replied sternly.

"It's high time for you to be married," giggled his mother. "After all, who's going to inherit the kingdom after you?"

"Okaa-san...!" Ichigo said angrily. "You know how I feel about this. I refuse to attend this ball. It's too early for me. And anyways…" he trailed off.

"Ichigo! Don't talk to your mother that way. Besides, you know that _that_ option is impossible. We are at war, Ichigo."

"I never said anything about _her_. Why'd you come to that conclusion anyways!" the young man growled in reply.

"If I was to marry anyone, least of all would it be her!" he finished on a nearly hysterical note.

"Ichigo, I understand how you feel but—" Isshin was rudely interrupted as Ichigo practically yelled out loud

"SHUT UP, you retarded old man! Don't try to act cool and pretend you of all people understand! There's nothing to be understood! Except for the fact that I am NOT going to this match-making party of yours and that is final!"

"Ichigo…" the sound of almost-tears in his mother's voice brought the young man's angry rant to a halt.

"Trust us, Ichigo." His mother Masaki continued.

"We know what is best for you, because after all, you are our precious son. So, Ichigo. Please, just give this a try. I guarantee that you won't regret it. Consider this as me pleading you to go, Ichigo. It is not an order as the queen of this country. It is a request. So please, just this once."

"Che." Ichigo answered, unable to resist the pleading look his mother sent him.

"Fine. It's not like I have much of a choice anyways." He said.

"No," replied his father in a strangely serious tone. "You have all the choice in the world! The future of Eventine depends on whether your choice be good or bad. You are selecting the next queen of our country. But more important than that Ichigo…"

"What?" asked the young man, slightly curious despite himself.

"OH ICHIGO! YOU'RE SUCH A MAMA'S BOY! WHY DON'T YOU EVER LISTEN TO WHAT YOUR DADDY HAS TO SAY? PAPA'S HEART IS WOUNDED!" bellowed Isshin, sending a flying kick towards his son.

"SHUT UP YOU RETARDED OLD MAN!" Ichigo screamed back, tripping his father and giving him a faceplant.

He then stormed out of the room, startling a flock of serving maids whom had gathered outside of the door to eavesdrop and no doubt later gossip about the private family meeting.

However, Ichigo hardly noticed them, embroiled in his thoughts he was as he strode angrily through the castle.

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><p>The sky was dark. The raven-haired girl looked unfocusedly out of the frosty panes of glass, lost in her thoughts.<p>

Winter was almost here.

The rains that fell had become chillier, and the last few crimson leaves of autumn had fallen from the branches of trees.

Rukia thought. And as she thought, she wondered.

Wondered about him. She wondered how he was doing, was he happy?

_Nah,_ she thought.

_That idiot being happy, not a chance. You'd be lucky to see him without a scowl on his face for that matter…_

Suddenly, the door to her sitting room burst open with a loud crash of wood against wall.

Rukia nearly leapt two feet off her chair. She quickly turned around, rising from her seat.

Immediately, Rukia could see what had caused the noise. Her servant, Abarai Renji lay sprawled on the ground, his spikey red hair even more disorderly than usual.

Rubbing the knot on her head ruefully, Rukia's maid Hinamori Momo lay beside Renji on the ground. It could be clearly seen that the two had rushed towards her door and in their haste, lost their footing and smacked into the doors, the force of the collision slamming the doors open.

Behind the two Rukia could see her footman, Hitsugaya Toshiro walking sedately at a slower pace than the former two.

The three of them, Renji, Momo, and Toshiro were all former street urchins running wild among the cities of Glaerand.

Rukia had met them accidentally during one of her visits to the city and consequently ended up taking them in.

The three were Rukia's chief servants, although their relationship was more akin to that of close friends than master and servant.

Rukia could still remember how hard it had been to finally convince her parents, Hisana and Byakuya to agree to her taking the three kids in.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Renji tossed a crumpled white envelope at her. It looked as though it may have once been a very clean and pristine shade of white, although now it was more of an off-colour cream than white.

The envelope was stained and smudged with a substance which looked suspiciously like meat gravy. Rukia gingerly unfolded the envelope and drew out the sheet of paper inside. In ornate writing, she read aloud:

_"Greetings from the King Kurosaki Isshin and Queen Kurosaki Masaki of the Western Kingdom of Eventine._

_We would like to announce the coming of a grand ball in which the Prince of Eventine, Kurosaki Ichigo will select his future bride._

_An invitation to the ball for the celebration of the Prince's engagement._

_We bid you fair speed and good fortune_

_We eagerly await your presence,_

_The Rulers of Eventine."_

"And… what the hell is this?" Rukia yelped.

Renji grunted in agreement. "Some guy dressed in the livery of the house of Eventine gave this invite to Hinamori." Renji said.

"It looks like an invite to all of the girls in the countries." Added Momo.

Toshiro remained silent at the doorway.

"Well, this is certainly unexpected," remarked Rukia. "I almost feel sorry for him. He couldn't have wanted to hold this sort of event."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that." Renji muttered in near exasperation.

And then at last, Toshiro spoke, saying; "Listen, Kuchiki. It's just better not to get involved in this sort of thing. Don't go sticking your nose into trouble."

"Aww! But it sounds like it could be fun!" quipped Momo.

"Hmmm… maybe you're right." Rukia smiled.

"Hey, you can't be serious, right?" groaned Renji.

"I'm advising you not to do this. You'd get into serious trouble if your parents found out, let alone us." Toshiro protested.

"_If_ my parent's find out," grinned Rukia. They could see that she had already taken hold of the idea.

"Besides, aren't things more fun to do when you break the rules?"

With that statement, the three's fears (and Momo's hopes) had been confirmed. Momo squealed for joy while Renji and Toshiro groaned in irritation.

Rukia simply smiled.

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><p>Please review so that i know whether or not anyone's reading this. thanks.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

sorry for such a late update. my excuse: tests (i know, it's lame.) i apologize for any confusion caused by marking this fic as Ichigo and Orihime. it's just that the story is mostly centered around them, even though i'm not going to make them a couple.

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><p>Orihime cradled her head in her arms, her hair catching the fading kiss of the sun and briefly turning the brilliant colour of flame.<p>

Her eyes were clouded in disappointment.

Of course, she'd expected it to turn out this way. After all, her "sisters" and aunt had no intention to let her go. She should have known, should have seen it coming, but somewhere inside of her there had still been that faint spark of hope which refused to go out.

Now, even that spark was gone.

For all of those 7 miserable, waiting days Orihime had run back and forth, on errands and various odd jobs fuelled by the near feverish excitement of her step-sisters and aunt.

On the first day, Orihime had considered the prospect.

On the second, she had been nearly dying to ask.

On the third, she finally gathered up her courage and made an attempt. It had come out like this; "Um… Harribel oba-san?" "What?" her aunt had snapped irritably, displeased at being interrupted in her rapid flicking through a lace-choked mountain of dresses. "Could I please… I mean canIpleasegototheball..!"

"Well…" Harribel had mused, an unpleasant smile on her face. "Maybe I'll consider if. But only if you work your hardest for the rest of the week."

And from then on, Orihime had been filled with a floating, airy feeling of happiness.

Until now.

4 days.

96 hours.

5760 minutes had gone by in a rush of dreamy excitement.

And now.

Now, she was alone, sitting on the hard, cold stone steps her leading up to aunt's mansion. Abandoned again.

Orihime finally stood. Dusting off the back of her plain and patched servant's apparel, she turned and prepared to return to the house to await the unwelcome homecoming of her adopted siblings and aunt.

Orihime shivered, at the sudden, slight hint of frost in the air. Hugging her arms around herself, Orihime skipped up the stairs and as her hand began to reach for the doorknob, she stumbled against the doorframe as a deafening rumble suddenly ripped through the space.

Whirling around, the girl gazed in shock as an oddly distorted carriage, painted bone white drew up to the mansion in a tortured squeal of rusted spokes and stamping hooves.

Orihime's eyes widened in an inexplicable fear.

She stood stock-still, like a rabbit caught in headlights unable to move as the door of the carriage slid open.

Out stepped a tall man, his skin pale enough to be an albino's but for his ebony hair and emerald eyes. A strange mark ran from the bottom of each of his eyes, an inky line that looked as though it was tracing tears.

The man had a placid expression, no emotion was to be seen whatsoever in his features or eyes. It was as if he was a human carved from marble.

Orihime's mouth was slightly open in surprise as the white-robed man stepped towards her.

Her ability to speak kicked in at the last moment.

"Wh-who are you..?" Orihime stuttered, still slightly frozen in shock. "Wh-what are you d-doing here..? D-do you have some business with my aunt?"

"No." The man answered. His voice was just as toneless as he looked. "My business is with you."

"M-me?" Orihime squeaked.

"Yes, you. My name is Ulquiorra Schifer.

Aizen-sama has ordered me to bring you to the engagement ball at Eventine." The man calmly intoned.

At this, a sliver of fear wormed its way into the girls voice as she hesitantly asked "W-why? Who is 'Aizen-sama'?"

"Aizen-sama is my master and King," the man— no, _Ulquiorra _replied.

"According to his wishes, you are to seduce the heir of Eventine. Cause him to fall in love with you. In the end, take his life."

"You— you..! You are asking me to assassinate _the_ 'Kurosaki Ichigo-sama'? I can't! I'll be killed!" Orihime cried aloud, her eyes desperately scanning her surroundings with the intention to flee clear in every movement.

"I would not advise that you refuse Aizen-sama's order." Ulquiorra said.

"Aizen-sama ordered that if you were to refuse, I am to hunt down your every acquaintance. Am I correct to assume that you know a certain man called 'Ishida'?"

"How do you know about Ishida-kun?" the girl spluttered.

"Ishida Uryuu. Childhood friend. You have known him ever since you moved to the Capital." The man recited in a monotone voice.

"It is in your best interests to cooperate with us. If not, I will eliminate this 'Ishida Uryuu' without fail. It is your choice."

"B-but..!" Orihime quavered.

"What is your reply? Answer now." Ulquiorra commanded.

The seconds dragged by, agonizingly slow. Outwardly, the girl appeared to be wrenched in indecision.

However, within her mind the answer was already clear. She could not lose Ishida-kun too.

During times of her grief, he had been her only support.

Ally and friend.

She couldn't— no! She _would not_ let him be killed! Even if it meant ending the life of another.

Finally, she spoke."I accept."

As the sound of her own words, spoken from her lips echoed through her mind, Orihime inwardly cringed in shame.

Some part of herself could not believe that she had agreed to so horrendous an offer.

In a slight effort to alleviate her guilt, Orihime thought to herself _I couldn't have done anything else. It was the only choice I could have made._

It didn't work. The thought only served to heighten her sense of betrayal.

"Get into the house, woman." Ulquiorra spoke, handing her a package wrapped in white that he had seemingly produced from no-where.

"Correct your appearance in 20 minutes. We leave at 7:20."

Orihime had not replied, simply taking the surprisingly heavy parcel from him and stepping into the house.

30 minutes and 15 seconds later, Ulquiorra finally pronou

nced her to be satisfactory.

Glancing down at herself, Orihime had to admit that she looked good.

The paper-white dress she had on clung tightly to her slim figure. The sleeves of the dress puffed up at the shoulder, slimming down and then belling out at her forearms. The silky white material was cut into a wide collar, and at her throat was a single red jewel, glittering like a drop of blood against a sea of white.

Her dress swept down elegantly, white slippers peeking out beneath. Ribbons of silk and bows of chiffon wound round the skirt of the dress.

The last piece.

A snow-feathered mask, handed to her by the stoic, green-eyed man.

All of it was in white.

She was beautiful.

And she detested it.

So much white. Her eyes ached for want of colour.

As she tied the ribbon of the mask around the back of her head, tucking her hair in place, it was as though she was sealing her own fate with this simple gesture.

Orihime felt like a china doll, dressed up prettily in flowers and silks, put up on display.

But this doll was different.

It had a purpose, for it was not only a doll, but also a marionette.

A puppet on strings, forced to dance as another pleased. Dance to the rhythm of a song not her own.

Ulquiorra gestured at the white carriage for her to get in.

Slowly, solemnly, the girl climbed up the alabaster steps and lowered herself onto the seat within the carriage.

It was all in white, nothing short of what Orihime had expected.

She turns her head, sweeps aside the clinging white curtain and looks softly, sadly out of the frosted panes of glass.

Her eyes seem to reflect the hooded twilight, ethereal shades of soft ash grey.

There is sorrow in her eyes. Guilt in her heart.

Yet as the carriage begins to move, she says not a word, utterly still.

There had been a choice.

She had chosen.

Now all that remained was to continue along the path of her decision.

She could no longer turn back now.

On to the unknown, or death she would go.

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><p>i hope this chapter wasn't too unexciting. i promise it'll get better! my updates might be infrequent, though. sorry about that :)<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Eh he heh, sorry for the lateness. I've been absent for a while. No excuses this time, it was only 'cuz I was feeling too lazy/depressed to write. I also apologize for the lack of Orihime in this chapter. Right now, I'm still setting the stage (pretty much). All those who reviewed/favorited/story alerted (you know who you are), thank you :)

Disclaimer: Bleach isn't mine.

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><p>.<p>

The twilight was slowly but surely fading away. If one looked hard, they would be able to see the last remaining strands of silver recede into a dark, cloaking black. The sky seemed as though it was being covered in droplets of ink, the stain of night creeping ever closer to the horizon. Soon, there was no light at all except for the pale glow of the paper moon.

The young man had a ferocious scowl on his face. He wanted very badly to tear off the mask of black velvet that felt as though it was suffocating him (even though it wasn't covering the bottom half of his face), or at least loosen the strangling tie. If either of his twin sisters saw him with such an expression, he could guess at what they would say. Karin would remark in a deadpan voice that he looked like he was constipated. Yuzu, however, would stare at him worriedly and ask if he was feeling alright.

Tearing his mind away from the would-be reactions of his siblings, he returned to the matter at hand. Shoving his fingers irritably through his short, spiky orange locks, he contemplated his current situation. He was completely surrounded by a mob of giggling, gushing, _girls_ of all shapes and sizes. (He supposed that he could consider himself lucky that not all of the girls were around him. A number were content to mingle in the crowd and dance with the other men.)

There were some, looking at him coquettishly from beneath their long, fluttering (and obviously fake) eyelashes. Others shoved their… uh, _assets_ at him with seductive looks on their silk-masked faces. They clustered around him, an utter riot of colour, richly embroidered fabrics swirling in a maelstrom of tapping high heeled feet and sweet-scented perfume.

Ichigo could feel his instincts kicking in, his muscles tense and prepare for either fight or flight. As fighting didn't exactly seem to be the best option at the moment, his mind was solely centered on hightailing it out of the grande (at that moment, it didn't feel very large, actually surprisingly claustrophobic) ballroom.

Seriously, he felt like doomsday had come a century too early. He could feel the sweat sliding down his face, the stiffness of his posture. Inwardly, he wished that he could kick himself (or on second thought, maybe not. He was enduring enough pain as it was.) for agreeing to old goat-chin's f***ed up plan. His old man deserved to be locked up in a mental institute. Considering that, how'd the retard end up as the ruler of a country anyways? He concluded his thoughts with the acknowledgement that the world was a messed up place.

"Kurosaki-sama?" squealed the girl directly in front of him. She was clad in a revealing corset top, ribbons and ruffles covering every inch of her skirt, with a kitten-shaped mask. All of it was in a revolting peachy colour.

"Would you please grant me the honour of a dance?" the girl cooed. At the sound of that question, the other women surrounding him immediately broke out into a flurry of protests. "You'll dance with me, ne Kurosaki-sama!" pouted a busty woman swathed in purple. "No! It'll be me!" protested a sharp, boney girl who looked like she had a wasting illness, coupled with the ashy tone of her skin under the beribboned mask. "Please, Kurosaki-sama!" whined a brunette, tears already gathering in her puppy-dog eyes.

All of the women clustered closer to Ichigo.

Needless to say, he didn't appreciate the added proximity the slightest bit. Ichigo backpedalled in panic, the scent of numerous unwashed bodies stinking of sweat could not be covered by the heavy layer of perfume (in the olden times, people didn't bathe very often because they thought it was bad for their health.) was overwhelming him.

The bodies pressed closer, and just as Ichigo thought that he could take it no longer, that he would actually dash out of the room in a blind panic, he felt an iron hand grip his arm.

...

The slight girl stepped into the bright, glittering ballroom, a tall red-haired man at her side, a short cold-eyed boy following closely behind. She was slightly taken aback at the light, and the sheer noise. Her brown-haired friend had melted among the dancers as soon as they had entered the hall.

The girl's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for that bright mop of orange. Almost immediately, she spotted it, among the multicoloured heads of a small, growing crowd of women. Rukia wanted badly to laugh at the situation and the expression that the orange-haired youth had on.

Beside her, Renji, dressed in a striped vest grinned in amusement. Behind, even Toshiro wore a small smirk on his ice-white masked face.

Deciding on her uncaring expression (she knew that it couldn't be seen very well through her mask, but the task of choosing her expressions had become habit.), the girl stepped towards the throng.

.

Renji's eyes were fixed on the small, raven-haired girl. He could see that Rukia's eyes were lit up, similarly fixed as his own on her as on the orange-haired man. Inwardly, the red-haired man felt a hint of annoyance as he watched his childhood friend hurry towards the young man with that _look_ on her face (screw the mask).

She looked happy, even as she forcibly strode through the tight gaggle of over-eager girls. No matter how hard he tried, Renji couldn't get that woman to show the same expressions as she did with _him_. It was infinitely frustrating.

He could tell that Rukia was having a good time despite how she looked. He'd hardly be able to call himself her friend (much less something more) if he ruined this for her, so he would let her do as she wished. However, he _would_ just in case, keep an eye on her and the orange-haired brat, Kurosaki Ichigo.

.

Toshiro observed the silent transactions with a slight grimace on his face. He could tell what Renji was thinking at the moment, and he mentally thanked god that tattooed man hadn't done something stupid. The white-haired boy knew that the situation was extremely complicated, and that it would most certainly not be pretty if a conflict occurred. Why did all of the people around him have to be so… so… what? Never mind. Their own issues, they had to sort out.

Toshiro repressed a shudder. He could still remember the last time, and it had been messy.

With that thought in mind, he turned to shoulder his own way through the crowd in search of Momo for lack of better company. (A jealous idiot who won't even admit that he's practically steeped in envy could hardly be considered "good company.") As he walked among the dancers, his black dress pants moving stiffly along with him, they giggled and cooed at him. Several girls deeming him as "cute." He could practically feel an anger vein pop out on his forehead.

.

The blue-eyed girl shoved her way gracelessly through the crowd of women, her mounting irritation hidden by a cheerful, sunny smile. Even the smile was beginning to grow strained, as she once again surfaced from the writhing masses and caught a glimpse of an orange head, now closer than a few moments before. Quietly swearing under her breath, Rukia flung out her thin arm and grasped the young man's forearm tightly.

Her lips tilted upwards in an artificially generated smile, she beamed cheerfully at the bewildered man and the girls whom were now simultaneously sending her looks of pure venom. She might have even been scared if she wasn't herself.

Keeping the bright grin plastered to her face, the girl chirped in false falsetto tones; "Kurosaki-sama, aren't you supposed to be the one asking women to dance instead of the other way around?"

Looking down, Ichigo is taken by surprise as he gazes into her large indigo eyes. They were oddly familiar...

He stutters as he answers her question bemusedly. "uh, well, then why don't we dance..?"

"My pleasure, Kurosaki-sama!" the girl trills in a sickeningly sweet voice (he wants to wince).

The steely grip she has on his arm does not subside as she practically drags him in her wake through the crowd of darkly muttering girls and onto the dance floor. He can feel his hand going numb from the lack of blood circulation.

Ichigo puts his hand on her slim waist, and she rests her hand on his shoulder. Their other hands are clasped together. He feels rather surprised at the girl's silence, and that dancing with her feels oddly comfortable.

As they weave among the other dancers in a slow waltz, he takes the time at last to fully look at her. His eyes take her small, slender form in.

They swirl through the other couples.

She is clad in a sleeveless dress of some feathery material, the top of her dress is snow white, melting into a soft ashy grey and the rim of her dress is a pure black. He admires the simplicity of the design.

Their feet step in sync. Her slippers are jet black.

The skirt of the dress is wide, belling out at her hips.

He lets her lead him through the dance.

His eyes move upwards and focus on her face. She has ivory-pale skin, and a delicate bone structure. _More familiar than ever…_

They waltz closer to the side.

She wears no jewellery, nor does she have any kind of make up or perfume on (he can tell). Her hair, it's oddly short for the era, the longest raven strands ending at her shoulders. One lock is stubbornly falling before her face…

They are next to the marble pillars.

_Her face…_ Glowing through the holes of her white mask, her eyes lock onto his. She has dark eyes, of the deepest indigo blue.

Indigo eyes…

he nearly gasps in shock at the sudden realization. Of all the people he knew, who had such eyes? Why didn't he realize sooner! His inner self is screaming at him. It was _her_, standing right in front of him! Hell, dancing with him and he'd only noticed a second ago.

"Ru—" he is cut off abruptly almost even before he began to speak by a small hand clamped firmly around his mouth. With a sharp jerk, she pulls him behind one of the pillars. Ichigo feels like his arm has been wrenched out of its socket.

"Rukia!" he half-screams in a loud whisper when she finally removes her hand from its stranglehold on his mouth, staring at her in undisguised shock. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Shut up you idiot! Do you want everyone to hear you? If so, then you are a fool!" she snaps back, her hand falling from its place on his shoulder as her arms move to cross themselves before her chest. "You haven't answered my question." The man scowls, taking his hands off her waist. "Why are you here?"

The girl grins behind her mask and quips in a sunshine-and-cheer voice; "Aww, Ichigo! You should be grateful that I take time to even visit you..! Haven't you missed me?" the orange haired man's scowl only deepens in intensity.

"Drop your shitty act, midget! It's disgusting, in case you haven't noticed." He crosses his own arms and stares rudely down at her. The girl's reply to his comment is a sharp elbow to the gut. His breath whooshes out of him, and he thinks that the girl in front of him hasn't changed to the slightest detail.

Rukia lets out a huffing sigh, her face shaped in mock pity.

"Oh Ichigo, even though it's been two years since I last saw you, you are just as big of a fool as you were before." She is a bit miffed that even though years have gone by, he is still able to look down at her from his height just as easily.

"Stupid bitch." He mutters under his breath. Unfortunately (for him), his comment does not go unnoticed and he is rewarded for his wit with a sharp kick to the shins.

"Did ya come here just to make my life a living hell?" Ichigo scowls at the small girl looking up at him (he feels a surge of inner satisfaction when she does that).

"Not exactly," the girl replies cheerfully. Her tone states that whatever her intention was, he'd gotten at least part of it right. "I came because I was bored."

Ichigo has to fight to stifle another scream of outrage. _She came to such a dangerous place (for _her_) because of such a stupid reason? She was beyond mad! No, she isn't even insane, she'd frickin RETARDED! But then again…_ Looking at her as she stares at him with those same eyes, _the eyes that stopped the _ _ _ _..._

Her eyes are smiling. She knows that he understands. Has either of them ever needed a reason for their actions?

They remain like that for several long seconds, just staring. Their eyes probe each other for emotions, thoughts. Neither of them have really changed.

Finally, Ichigo breaks their temporary silence with a smirk on his black-masked face. He shoves his hands into his pockets as he remarks offhandedly to her; "Never mind. Let's just get outta hear before someone finds us hiding behind a pillar."

Rukia does not reply. Instead, she responds to his smirk with one of her own. One considerably more fearsome. Then, with the speed of a striking viper, her fingers lock once again around his wrist and she drags him behind her out into the dazzling lights of the cavernous ballroom. There is a wide smile on her face.

Unknowingly (as he lets a deluge of obscenities stream from his mouth), he is mirroring her smile.

.

Renji's eyes are glued to them. His emotions are so palpable, Toshiro bets (although he is a gentleman, and he does _not_ do bets) that he'd be able to cut them with a knife.

Momo giggles behind her pale mask at the sight of her best friend dragging a protesting orange-haired man in her wake.

A young man, his glasses flashing white-blind in the lights observes the scene with a slight air of scorn, his mood one of amusement.

A silver haired man grins from ear to ear, his eyes slit in a smile.

Gentle brown eyes are looking calmly, a warm smile etched onto a kind face.

The 12 eyes continue to watch.

...

The carriage rattles, then jumps to an abrupt spot almost jolting the girl from her seat. She calmly smoothes the wrinkles from her skirt, gliding down the firm steps.

At the sight of her appearance, the footmen on guard snap to their positions. Their eyes follow her as she ascends the gleaming staircase of the castle.

As each step brings her closer to the ballroom, she feels a growing sense of dread at the pit of her stomach.

The girl's auburn locks swirl around her curved figure; grey eyes are set in determination. The clicks of her high heels are resounding oddly in her head.

As she continues on her way, she thinks that it wasn't supposed to be like this.

She had not wished for it.

More footmen in livery swing the door open with a whoosh at her approach.

The light and sound temporarily render her deaf and blind. She can feel a curious stinging in her eyes, and she tells herself that it is because of the blinding light.

* * *

><p>How was this chapter? So Orihime's finally arrived, ne. I'm trying to keep the OOC'ness to a minimum. Reviews are appreciated.<p>

- higanbana -


	5. Chapter 5

1:34AM:

I'm sorry. I don't know what to say other than. I dislike giving up, but I can't continue like this. I have (regrettably) lost interest in the Bleach fanfiction universe, and I don't think that I can do the characters justice, as much as they deserve. From now on, all of my multi-chapter Bleach fics are discontinued, and I don't see it changing at all in the future. Please PM me if you'd like to adopt a story. I hate to see these fics not have a proper ending, but I don't think that I am capable of it.

I've been going through a lot of changes in my life recently… and more are coming. It's a little bit strange, and very sad, because lots of things are ending. It's like a fresh start… and I want to make something of that.

Thank you, all of you who read and/or reviewed. It really means a lot more than you might think. It made me really happy, to know that people were actually reading something I'd written. It's an amazing feeling… so, **thank you**. I'm sorry for taking so long (literally, years) to finally post this. And for blathering sappily on so much.

That's it, I guess. I hope… well, I don't know yet.

Laters,

Higanbana

1:46AM


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